


not a crash landing

by pythontvg



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fic wrote itself!, Fluff and Smut, M/M, My First Smut, Smuttysmuttysmut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythontvg/pseuds/pythontvg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason felt- no, *knew*- that this was no accident, no happenstance crash landing that came of strange circumstances for which he wasn't sure whether to thank or curse his luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not a crash landing

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came out of NOWHERE. One minute, I was gushing about Python and I was excited to see that a fandom was already born. The next, this got written! Concrit is absolutely welcome. Humble apologies in advance for the run-on sentences; this is what Jason is like in my head as of now.

Jason wondered if Pythagoras knew how to sew.

He also wondered if Pythagoras was gay.

The second thought came to Jason abruptly, while he was sitting on the chair next to Pythagoras’s work table in his living room, attempting to master (or let's face it, maneuver through) yet another skill he didn't think he'd need to learn: sewing a tear in his tunic. Jason laughed to himself at the absurdity of it all, the greatest of which was that this absurd new life felt as familiar as it did foreign, but things like _sewing_ his _tunic_ at _Pythagoras-the-triangle-guy’s_ work table kept him from romanticizing just how familiar it all was. The thought came to Jason while he was thinking about home and how popping open a beer while sitting on the deck of his boat would have been a better end to his day than repairing a worn garment, and suddenly the image in his mind was of Pythagoras sitting next to him on the deck of his boat with his spindly legs resting on top of Jason's and Jason abruptly thought, _I wonder if he's gay_.

In Jason's mind, Pythagoras turned sideways to look at him, with a lazy smile on his face, a beer held awkwardly in his right hand, the wind ruffling his blond hair, the setting sun casting a golden hue around his face-- _Jesus_ , clearly Jason fucking _fervently hoped_ Pythagoras was gay-- and Jason's hand was reaching out to Pythagoras’s arm, pulling him closer, his heart beating faster, his focus becoming sharper, and everything but Pythagoras became slipstream and the beer bottles rolled away and Jason was kissing Pythagoras. Jason was kissing Pythagoras and Pythagoras was clutching Jason's back, pulling off his t-shirt, pulling off his own tunic, getting on top of Jason, laughing-- laughing in decided lust and deluding confidence, a confidence that came from knowing exactly what the other person was feeling and knowing you are responsible for it. Jason felt keenly in his fantasy that Pythagoras's ass was on his penis and the rumbling in Jason's lower abdomen was no longer a fantasy; it was real and that familiar warmth was spreading through him at a raging pace and _great_ , now he had an erection. The smiling Pythagoras in his mind was now a flushed-face Pythagoras, his intent made clear by his searching hands, his grinding hips, with the hot skin of his torso and the achingly pleasing weight of his being on top of Jason's, his mouth wreaking havoc with Jason's neck, and Jason cupping Pythagoras's ass, noticing the sunbeams fall on Pythagoras’s bare, glistening neck and shoulders, Jason pulling him forward, his mouth reaching out to Pythagoras's lips, teeth, tongue, that spot right below his ear, and hands everywhere, body parts pressing against each other as though trying to fuse together, finding that his fervor was met with greater fervor, and just that one thought was enough to push Jason over the edge.

Jason's hands had gotten clammy. He abandoned his attempts to repair the tunic. The haphazard sewing resulted in the bunching up of his tunic on the left side and there was still a noticeable tear in it, but it would have to do. He slipped it on and looked up in time to catch Pythagoras staring at him while standing by the door. "Hi," Jason said.

"Uh, hello," Pythagoras said, "you, uh, need help with the--?"

"What, this," Jason said, furiously trying to block the image of Pythagoras doing nasty, nasty things to him, and began gesticulating at his tunic like it was a perfect specimen of Atlantis clothing and not the only, _only_ thing keeping his fantasy from becoming known to Pythagoras right that second because after all, the tunic was covering the tent his pants were making right now, "It's fine, I fixed it, nothing to it."

"Oh, all right. I wondered.. if, sure, yes, it looks.. fine. I'll go then."

"Okay." Jason took a louder-than-normal breath. "Yes. It's perfectly.. Wait.. Do you know how to sew?"

Pythagoras blinked. "Well, no. But I bet I could do a better job than what you've accomplished."

"Oh." Jason smiled. "Be my guest," Jason said and pulled off the tunic and held it out to Pythagoras.

Fantasy Pythagoras may be all kisses and hot skin and a glistening neck that made Jason notice fucking _sunbeams_ but the real Pythagoras was standing by the door, hesitantly so, in his _own house_ , giving space to a perfect _stranger_ , with all sorts of unending _kindness_ that only Pythagoras could muster, and that gave Jason the gall to pull off his tunic and stand there before Pythagoras, bare chested and warm and sweaty. The good kind of warm and sweaty, Jason suddenly hoped.

Pythagoras stepped forward and took the tunic from Jason’s extended arms. He looked at Jason’s handiwork on the tear. “This is... pitiful, Jason,” he said. Jason didn’t fail to notice that Pythagoras did not look up from the tunic although he was done examining it. “Almost absurd. It’s like you didn’t even bother crossing the stitch from one side to the other while, while stitching.” Pythagoras was dangerously close to rambling.

Jason stepped closer to Pythagoras. A step further and he would surely be invading Pythagoras’s personal space and now there was no way for Pythagoras to miss the tent in Jason’s pants.

Pythagoras looked up at Jason. He may not have been smiling; his blue eyes may indeed have been wide, but they looked right into Jason’s. “You seem to need help with your pants too, Jason.”

Jason wasn’t sure what he had been prepared for, but it wasn’t that. “What..” he mumbled, and he realized that Pythagoras was suddenly no longer hesitant; he was sure-- he was cocksure about something, and real Pythagoras was quickly melting into carefree, lustful, _knowing_ fantasy Pythagoras, and that made Jason want to be under, over, next to, as humanly proximate to Pythagoras as possible, and Jason grabbed Pythagoras’s shoulders and-- and didn’t know what to do. Jason stood there next to Pythagoras, radiating heat, possibly desperation and starting to anticipate humiliation, not knowing what to do.

Pythagoras cupped Jason’s balls. It came out of nowhere, even if Jason was the one holding Pythagoras presumably hostage and Jason was the one advancing on Pythagoras and Jason was the one with the fucking erection. Jason needed nothing else; he was kissing Py-- no, they were kissing or fighting with mouths, Jason wasn’t sure, Jason didn’t want it to stop, and Jason had no more coherent thoughts, only a realization that they were getting naked-er and naked-er and Pythagoras’s cock was in Jason’s hands while Jason’s mouth was on Pythagoras’s neck. They were breathing raggedly and exploring each other with hands that were preposterously certain of their mission, as though this has long been coming, as though Jason’s life has always been about making sure Pythagoras’s hands found him, and Jason didn’t think he could take it any longer. “Turn around,” Jason whispered; his hands were now parting Pythagoras’s cheeks and finding with his fingers the spot he knew was going to push Pythagoras into senselessness and _hopefully_ then he would understand what Jason was going through and why Jason felt familiarity in a place so foreign, because Jason had found Pythagoras not five seconds after finding himself in Atlantis and so Jason had felt safe even before he felt completely lost, and now Jason was almost fucking Pythagoras and that made him feel more found than he cared to admit, because admitting it would be so _dramatic_ and they weren’t even really fucking yet, _Jesus H. Christ_.

Pythagoras had his hands in Jason’s hair and he was kissing Jason’s mouth and chin and chest and nipples and then he turned searching eyes on Jason at his whispered command to turn around. “I’ve never,” Pythagoras said between kisses and swollen lips finding eager tongues, “done this before.”  Jason would have paused, but Pythagoras’s bare chest was reassuringly pressing against Jason’s like it didn’t have anywhere else to go and Pythagoras was kissing like someone who _had_ done this before and was hoping to keep doing it, and his erection was rubbing against Jason’s torso.

“Ever? Or with a guy?” Jason asked, his breath rushed, his kisses mostly not breaking, his mind lost in the sensation of his cock against Pythagoras’s hips. His fingers had not stopped what they were doing to Pythagoras and it pleased him that Pythagoras could not form a coherent sentence in reply.

“..Ev.. Guy,” Pythagoras breathed.

Jason’s finger was tracing deliberate circles around Pythagoras’s opening and Pythagoras was moaning in Jason’s ear. Jason kissed Pythagoras until he was sure they desperately needed oxygen and then he pulled back, while retracing his fingers slowly to Pythagoras’s lower back. “Okay,” Jason said.

Pythagoras reclaimed Jason’s mouth. “I didn’t.. I didn’t say stop.”

“I know,” Jason said, moaning as Pythagoras found the hollow of Jason’s neck with his mouth, “but for now.. knowing you’re into this sort of thing.. is good.”

“Def.. definitely, now, I guess, always,” Pythagoras was suckling Jason’s earlobe, “but now, more.. with you.. yes.”

Pythagoras then laughed, his hand briefly touching his forehead. “It’s like.. This is,” Pythagoras mumbled, “You are going to think of me as so strange for saying this.”

They were only a few inches apart but Jason felt the pause was arduous, and not the delicious kind of arduous-- just plain fucking arduous. “What is it?” Jason asked softly, though it was beyond him how he managed the sincerity to ask that question when all he wanted to do was be inside Pythagoras _now_ and was not doing it because he wanted Pythagoras to feel as safe with him as he did with Pythagoras, and Jason didn’t particularly feel like articulating it because, _God,_ they have only known each other for _a week_ , and if he did, Pythagoras would surely think of him as part of an alien species who did not fathom boundaries or common sense or the _melodrama of it all_ , instead of the sexy stranger with the fantastic sex-riddled secrets that Jason hoped Pythagoras perceived him as right now.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for you,” Pythagoras said, while pushing Jason toward his work table and then pushing away the notebooks and stationery and his endless triangle musings on scraps of paper off the table, “To crash into my house”, and it felt to Jason like Pythagoras was feverishly kissing him again in hopes that Jason wouldn’t hear what Pythagoras was saying, “To crash into my life.” But Jason had heard every word and he now felt a different kind of warmth spreading through him and it threatened to take over him and this felt like a new kind of arduous; the delicious, wonderful kind. Jason felt- no, _knew_ \- that this was no accident, no happenstance crash landing that came of strange circumstances for which he wasn’t sure whether to thank or curse his luck.

Jason turned them around, sat Pythagoras on the table, dropped to his knees and spread Pythagoras’s knees apart. Pythagoras made the tiniest of gasps and gave Jason a look that was very reminiscent of flushed-face fantasy Pythagoras and that drove Jason _almost_ as insane as Pythagoras himself. Jason took Pythagoras in his mouth and then there existed only Pythagoras’s trembling arms and white-knuckled hands clutching the edges of the table and Jason wanting nothing more than to hear Pythagoras moan, moan for _him._ Pythagoras shuddered as he came. He was still gasping when he clutched Jason’s neck and pulled him up for a kiss. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Pythagoras,” Jason said, heart thudding despite himself, “Yes. I heard--.”

Pythagoras pushed Jason flat on to the floor, with that decided lust and deluding confidence that came from knowing exactly what Jason was feeling and knowing that Pythagoras was responsible for it, and before Jason could finish his thought, he was in Pythagoras’s mouth and all of Jason’s thoughts threatened to evaporate. “Pythagoras," he called out, still, trying, because he had to get this out, “Hold on.”

Pythagoras looked up at him. There was a flush on his face that Jason found beautiful.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting to crash into your life.”

Pythagoras smiled. “Yea. Just as I thought. That sounds ridiculous.”

Jason laughed. As Pythagoras went back down on him, Jason said, “I’m also very grateful for my torn tunic.”

Pythagoras’s laugh was lost as he responded by capturing Jason’s balls inside his mouth and doing things that _surely_ he had only read about in Atlantis’s version of a dirty magazine that he personally subscribed to (i.e., Hercules’s morning-after tales) and Jason was thankful for that too. He closed his eyes and felt Pythagoras climb on top of him and could almost picture beer bottles rolling away from them and the sunbeams on Pythagoras’s bare neck and shoulders, and Jason pulled him closer and kissed him.

- **fin** -

**Author's Note:**

> I realise that I sacrificed basic rules of grammar like consistent tenses in favour of smut. Also, I basically played checkers with punctuation in this fic. One day when I feel more removed from the fic, I may hack at it with grammar lenses and make corrections. For now, run-on smut it is!
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. BBC One and who knows who else own all. No profit made or intended to be made. Please don't come after me.


End file.
